Scars - 06

cw: physical and emotional abuse

★★★★★

It was weird, waking up and not finding Rafayel in my kitchen stealing snacks or painting with a towel wrapped around his head like some exhausted French muse.

After New Year, life kind of resumed its regular rhythm-Rafayel got back to doing commissions, and I was still on my well-earned break, which meant I had the time to lounge around, bother Thomas, and sneak kisses from my very pretty (and very dramatic) boyfriend when he wasn't busy mixing paints like his life depended on it.

"Hey, Y/N." Thomas had said one lazy afternoon, spinning in his desk chair like a bored six-year-old.

"There's this fancy actress who wants a live portrait done by Raf. It's this big, bougie event up in the mountains. Paid trip, five-figure commission-we'll be leaving in the afternoon."

I blinked. "A week?"

"Yeah, a week. I don't wanna goooo." Rafayel pouted like a child, wrapping his arms around my waist as he whined.

Thomas only nodded, throwing a sour candy into his mouth. "Hey you two. Don't look at me like that. It's not my fault he's so talented."

Ugh. I mean... I wasn't going to stop him or anything. That would be unfair. Art was Rafayel's thing-it made him light up.

Still, I couldn't shake off the quiet ache settling in my chest at the thought of him being away. It was selfish, I know. But... I liked having him around. Even his teasing. Especially his teasing.

But of course, this is a big opportunity for Rafayel. This might be the chance for him to become a well known artist.

They're leaving in the afternoon. I kissed Rafayel softly before I bid them goodbye.

As if the universe wanted to make things worse, Caleb called that same night. The conversation started normal, the usual: "Pipsqueak, I miss you." and "When are you gonna visit me so I can make fun of your height again?"

Then he dropped it: "Hey... could you maybe come home for a few days? Mom's birthday's coming up. It'd mean a lot. Ugh, I don't know what'll happen to me if you refuse so please. Consider it."

At first, I hesitated. And by hesitated, I mean I stared at my phone for a solid twenty minutes. That house wasn't home. Not to me. Not to Caleb. It was a place full of silence, slammed doors, bruises, and scars that never quite faded.

But this was Caleb. The one who used to sneak me food when I got locked in rooms. The one who made me laugh even when everything hurt.

So I said yes.

─── ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ───

The first thing I noticed when I arrived was how nothing had changed. The crooked welcome mat, the dusty porch, the faint smell of alcohol and denial soaked into the walls. Same old fucking hell.

Caleb greeted me with the tightest hug, his voice laced with guilt.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, just for me to hear. "But I didn't know how else to get you here."

Turns out, it wasn't about a birthday at all.

Within an hour, they started poking at the edges-his mom complaining about bills, his dad sighing heavily, making comments about how "tough it is these days." Then came the jabs wrapped in guilt.

"We raised you like our own." His mom said, lighting another cigarette with a glass of beer in her other hand.

"You turned out successful 'cause of us." his dad added, chugging along.

They looked at me like I owed them something. Like I hadn't spent years trying to survive under their roof. Like my bruises weren't proof of their "love."

I sat still, keeping my expression neutral, but my nails dug into the inside of my palm.

Caleb must've noticed because he dragged me out into the yard under the pretense of needing help with something. Once we were alone, he sighed and leaned against the fence.

"I didn't know they'd pull this fucking stunt again." He muttered, looking ashamed. "They told me they wanted to see you. To... apologize. I was stupid to believe it."

I looked at him. "You're not stupid. Just hopeful."

He offered a sad smile. "Same thing, isn't it?"

I hugged him, tightly. He's my brother. Even though we're not related by blood. We raised eachother in the midst of chaos.

"I'm here for you. Not them."

And I meant it. I'd always mean it.

─── ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ───

That night, while they were busy arguing over who gambled what, I locked myself in my old room and called Rafayel.

No answer.

He was probably already at the event, maybe sketching something, painting under those huge golden lights in a hall filled with people who could actually afford to spend thousands on a portrait of themselves.

I glanced at the window, at the crooked tree Caleb and I used to climb when we wanted to disappear from his parents' sight.

And suddenly, I missed him.

Not just Rafayel-but the way he saw me. Like I was someone worth painting. Someone worth staying for.

I missed his dumb sarcastic jokes, his soft sleepy voice, his dramatic rants about how no one appreciates "true artists" anymore. I missed his stupid purple hair and the way he'd look at me when he thought I wasn't watching.

I scrolled through my camera roll, stopping at a picture I secretly snapped of him while he was painting one morning. His brows furrowed, lips pursed, shirt slightly messy with red streaks of acrylic.

God, I missed him.

And I didn't just miss him because I was in a house full of monsters. I missed him because he felt like home in a way this place never did.

And that scared me.

Because I didn't know how to tell him. My sufferings. My pains. My chaotic past.

Not yet.

But soon. Maybe when he comes back.

Maybe then, I'll tell him that he doesn't need to paint me to make me feel seen.

He just has to stay.

─── ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ───

At first, I thought they'd give up.

I said no-firmly, politely, a hundred times over. I didn't raise my voice. I didn't cause a scene. I just... refused.

But as days pass by, they kept asking. Pleading. Pushing my limits.

They followed me around the house like ghosts that wouldn't leave. First, it was "just a little" Then it became "you owe us." Then it turned into guilt tripping. Shame. And screams.

"You're so ungrateful!" His mom snapped one night. "After everything we've done for you."

Everything? What exactly did they do?

─── ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ───

The final straw came when I was coming back from the grocery store, and I caught them trying to break into Caleb's room.

"What are you doing?" I asked, dropping the paper bag.

Caleb's dad turned, eyes sharp. "He's hiding something."

I stepped in front of them. "This is his room. His stuff. You don't have the right to-"

"Move, you wench!"

They pushed past me anyway.

They tore through Caleb's drawers, cabinets, even under his mattress. And when they found it-an envelope, thick and heavy with cash-everything fell apart.

"What the hell is this?!" his dad roared, waving the envelope. "You've been hiding money from us?!"

"It's mine!" Caleb shouted back. "I earned that from my jobs-part-time jobs! It's for my tuition! For flight school!"

His mom scoffed. "So selfish. After all we've done, you still think this is just yours? We let you stay here again even after you ran away 'cause you have nowhere to live!"

I stepped between them again, heart pounding. "Enough. Stop. You can't take that."

His dad glared at me like I was nothing. "You're not even our child. And you won't even spare us a penny even after everything we've done for you. You owe us more than anyone."

And I snapped.

"No, I don't! I already gave you too much! Last year, I sold my dream car-the one I worked years for-just to pay off your debts. I've sent you groceries, paid your bills, even sent you money on birthdays I wasn't invited to! How much more do you want from me?! My spine?! My soul?!"

My voice cracked at the end. I didn't even care.

But they didn't care either.

"Y/N's right! Go find a way to pay off your debts! Give that back-" Caleb shouted, trying to retrieve his money.

His father lunged for Caleb. "You want to talk back now, huh?"

"Don"t touch him!"

I tried to stop them. I really did.

But fists don't care who they hit when they're swinging blind.

Caleb was on the floor, arms covering his head. His mom was yelling. I got shoved. Slapped. Something hit my shoulder hard-I wasn't sure if it was a fist or the heavy guilt of being so damn powerless.

And just like that... they were gone.

So is the money.

The door slammed behind them with the sound of finality.

─── ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ───

I sat on the floor beside Caleb, both of us dazed and bruised. He had a cut on his lip. My cheek was swollen.

No one cried at first.

We just stared.

Then slowly, the cracks formed, and we broke at the same time-like a dam finally giving in after a storm that lasted too long.

Caleb leaned against me, hiding his face in my shoulder. His body shook. I held him close, trying to hold both of us together with what little strength I had left.

We stayed like that for hours. The whole house was silent now. It wasn't peace-it was the kind of silence that came after a battle. Heavy. Raw.

My phone buzzed weakly on the nightstand. I didn't want to move. But I did.

It was Rafayel. He's calling.

I hesitated.

Then I picked up.

"Y/N..."

Just his voice. Soft. Warm. Familiar.

I opened my mouth. Tried to speak, "Hm? What do you want?"

"N-nothing, cutie! I just miss you that's all."

I want to respond. But the tears were rising too fast now. My throat was closing up. I couldn't say anything without breaking apart.

So I did the only thing I could.

I ended the call.

I stared at the screen as the call ended, hands trembling.

I didn't want him to hear me like this.

I didn't want him to hear me cry.

★★★★★